Khamsin
by Voice of the Shadow Realm
Summary: Bakura is plagued by a repetative memory that he brushes off as a nightmare and Ryo struggles to keep the relationship on the straight and narrow, it becomes more and more apparent that he may be losing the thief to his bitterness and reluctance to let go
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**

Okay as it seems my new fic Of Kings And Thieves is not being received with the most outward displays of enthusiasm, and I'm determined that I shan't be a one trick pony, I have put that fic on hiatus and I will post my first romantic fic.

I personally believe most view Bakura (Yami Bakura) to be either obsessed with Ryo or he barely acknowledges his existence, either they are joined hip to rear or they are on the verge of killing each other. Bakura is also perceived to be the far more dominant of the pair, as with Yami in Still Standing, I believe he is far more vulnerable than he lets on...

Gah! Listen to me gush like the silly little fan girl I am. (no disrespect to fan-girls, who are far more sane than I sound at this moment in time.) You aren't here to listen to my rantings. You want a little bit of fluff to make you all warm and gooey inside... Like chocolate pudding. Mmmmmm.

**Disclaimer:**

Blah blah blah.Yu-Gi-Oh! Blablubah blah blah! Which roughly translates to... (whips out trusty goobly-de-gook to English dictionary) I do not buy, rent or own any of the Yu-Gi-Oh characters or story lines. Just those what are milling around in that mush that is, apparently, my brain. Oh, and that I must remain at least 100 meters away from all male Yu-Gi-Oh characters (and Mai) at all ti... Hey! That's not funny Bakura!

**Khamsin.**

**Chapter. 1: A Night Interrupted.**

_**He'd been having a good sleep. Wrapped up all snuggly in warm furs and blankets, dreaming of honey cake and thick soured goats milk, when he was so rudely wakened. He uttered a tiny whimper as the furs and blankets were torn from him.**_

_**"Yes, I know Little one. You are sleepy. But you must waken for me."**_

_**Cracking a reluctant eye open, he grumped at the woman who tugged him to his feet. Her eyes, as blue as the pale sapphires Pharaoh wore on his hands, her skin, a milky and smooth colour, refusing to bake brown despite the time she spent in the desert heat, and her hair that fell over her shoulders was of such crisp white that it gleamed in the sunlight brighter than the moon that hung in the skies. These genetic traits were all too common amongst the Tehenu people and, though the Egyptians found it to be hauntingly beautiful, it was scorned upon. Blue-eyes, pale skin and fair-hair was almost as good as a death sentence, although she had managed to dodge the swap fever that had claimed so many of her people. **_

_**The boy rubbed his eyes and snuffled back tired sobs as he was quickly dressed. His own hair gleamed as brilliantly white as his mothers, but his skin was darker, proof of the Egyptian blood that his father provided mingled through his veins. Slowly he pulled his hands from his eyes and stared through rusted coloured orbs. "Momma," he whimpered and threw himself against her and stamped impatiently for her to pick him up, frustrated and sulky that she did not immediately comprehend that, as with all youngsters, mother was supposed to understand what every word, sob and action was implied to and attend to every demand instantly or else be subjected to enormous strops.**_

_**She quickly gathered the child in her arms and walked to the hut window. Outside she could smell the burning, and hear the screams. Taking a deep breath she raised one leg over the windowsill and easily escaped into the heaving mass of panic. Men and women ran through the village in blind fear, small children who'd escaped their parents grasps were swiftly trampled by the stampede. **_

_**She did her best to ignore the battered and broken bodies of the dead or dying, as a mother her only instinct was to protect her own offspring. She was managing quite well until a woman hailed her, and to her horror the woman was dragging the dead body of her own son, no more than seven, by a dislocated arm behind her.**_

_**"By Isis's fruitful womb." the woman shrieked, her free hand clawing toward her. "Help my son to safety," she eyed the boy in the her arms. "One mother to another. Please, I fear my boy is gravely injured."**_

_**Her blue eyes fell upon the boy in the dirt, he was clearly dead. This woman must be aware of that, simply by the way the body flopped and dangled from the arm without so much as a whimper. "You son is dead." **_

_**Then she saw the woman lunge, snatching at her child. Instinctively he raised her free arm to deflect the attack, grabbing her around the face she held the flailing woman at bay. Madness and rage burned in her eyes as again and again she snatched at the boy, only coming away with a few strands of hair in her talons.**_

_**"Give him to me you stinking whore!" the woman howled over the child's terrified screams.**_

_**Still holding her boy in one arm a strange change came over her, her blue eyes chilled and her face darkened. She slipped her hand from her son who shrieked and clung even more tightly to her now his support had gone, wrapping his short legs around her. Squatting, she groped the ground, never taking her eyes off the spitting, shrieking woman and grasped something. Then she swung with all her might. The impact was never heard, the only way she knew the blow had struck was when the eyes rolled up into the skull and the woman crumpled to the ground, dead.**_

_**She barely had time to gather her breath before the shouts of terror had redoubled and the whinny of the chariot horses were almost upon her. There was no longer time to escape, she snatched a quick glance at the top of her sons head and her chest tightened. He trembled in her arms and buried his face into her chest, tired and frightened. She knew this was the last time she would ever hold him, touch him. Gathering her thoughts she spotted an upturned cart with a panel from the front torn free, she raced to it and dropped to her knees. She wrenched the child from her body and bundled him through the splintered wood. He rolled over once and scrambled to face his mother, confusion and fear marred his features.**_

_**He opened his mouth to speak but just that moment the hoof beats vibrated so violently through him, he stared at the ground in terror, half expecting it to split beneath him and swallow him up. Then his mother made a strange sound and fell. Bright red stuff gurgled from her mouth and dribbled to the sand, rolling into little balls of mud. **_

_**"Momma?" he called and dragged his belly along the biting sand.**_

_**She rolled her slowly glazing eyes up to his face. "S-stay hidden, Little one." Fresh bright lung blood gurgled out of her mouth, she was slowly drowning in her own blood, the sticky fluid collected sand onto her lips. He hesitated and stared at the bloody froth bubbling up from her throat and her lips quivered beneath it. "Don't-" Her eyelids fluttered once. Twice. Then closed.**_

_**Something in his throat caught and, no matter how hard he tried to swallow, the lump would not dissolve. His stomach clenched so hard it hurt and numbed his whole body all at once. **_

_**No more screams reached him as he retreated into his little world of misery, he didn't know if they faded out over time or weather he simply stopped hearing it. Hours dragged and he still just lay there, cowering beneath the cart until finally he felt brave enough to haul his exhausted body to his mothers side. His eyes, dark and sunken with misery, stung with the dryness of fatigue as he squirmed and wriggled from beneath the cart and into his mothers arms. He closed his eyes and, at last, the lump dissolved and he sobbed, heartbroken.**_

_**"Shhhhh." **_

_**The wind stroked its way over the charred remains of the village. **_

_**He tried to move, but something held him still, something warm and solid. **_

"Shhhhhh."

The sound came again and he realized it wasn't the winds whispering. His eyes flew open and he could make out a dark and vaguely unsettling, yet familiar shape. He blinked hard and it came into focus.

"Bakura?"

Another hard blink and the blanket of sleep fell away. Ryo's face, twisted with worry, hovered above his. "What did you dream?"

An image flashed. The burning. The screams. His moth-

His heart hammering, Bakura crushed his face against Ryo's collar and took a deep breath, grounding himself with his scent, his touch, making sure he was still real. Still alive.

"I just want- I need to sleep." Trembling, Bakura pulled sharply away, his cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment. He didn't understand why he still felt awkward around Ryo, he should be past all that juvenile behavior, but he still found himself shutting the boy out. His muscles tensed and bunched in his shoulders, waiting for him to prod and insist they talk. He needn't have worried, Ryo wouldn't prod, he never did. He was quite happy letting Bakura be Bakura and if he didn't volunteer the information then he didn't ask. That was just his way of dealing with the thief.

After a moment, Bakura relaxed and eased himself back against the pillows. Pulling Ryo hard against him, just so he would know if he weren't there, and eventually fell back to sleep.

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Phew. Now hopefully this will get a bit more of a reaction and it seems a lot more like my writing style. I'm debating actually pulling Of Kings And Thieves. Anyhoo, I am still trying to think of a name for one of my chinchillas any suggestions mail me.

Please r&r as I miss your words of wisdom and encouragement.

Tis a male chinchilla btw.

Stay smexy. xXx


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note :**

Sorry the first chapter was a little short but I realized I couldn't't really do it as a dream sequence for Bakura if it was coming from a soldiers pov. That's what I get for not sleeping in 48 hours and being on a caffeine high. COFFEE. Anyhoo, yeah so I had to almost completely re-write that last chapter. I have a few reviews on my other fic so I'm gonna continue with it as well as this one.

**Disclaimer :**

I never have and never will claim to own Yu-Gi-Oh! I do however own milk, coffee, sugar and the letter Q

**Khamsin.**

**Chapter. 2: Neglect.**

He groaned and rolled over in his sleep, expecting Ryo to still be laying next to him bundled in the twisted sheets. His hand searched the mattress where the boy should be but it was cold. Bolting awake, much to the dismay of his sleep deprived body, Bakura tugged the sheets away and tossed them to the floor. The pillows soon accompanied the sheets as he continued his frantic search of the bed, not that he really expected Ryo to be hiding under the pillows, not without his notice anyway.

With the bed stripped of all linen, Bakura sat back on his knees and rubbed his sleep dimmed eyes. He gave his head a Sharp shake, sloughing off the seductive pull of sleep and glanced at the alarm clock. Ryo had left for work over an hour ago.

He groaned again, this time in frustration. Ryo was working and now, with the bed scattered across the room, he couldn't't even attempt more sleep. Today would not be a good day. He staggered toward the bathroom and set about the usual morning rituals. After emptying his bladder, he yanked the pull cord and flooded the bathroom with light. Turning, he caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror.

He barely recognized the person staring back at him. Long white hair gnarled and plastered down his face with sweat, his rusted eyes dark and hooded with exhaustion and there was something else - behind the anger and frustration, almost shuttered out of his face completely. He could still see the lost and scared little boy he had been so very long ago.

With a snarl, he spun on his heel and stalked to the shower, yanking the faucets on fully. As he waited for the water to heat up, he turned back to the mirror and touched his fingers to the defining scar beneath his eye. Once the water hit almost scalding he stepped beneath the stream, tilted his face to the pelting water and just stood there motionless for a few minutes, letting the water cascade over his body, his eyes closing in contentment.

With his eyes still closed he reached for the bottle of shampoo, tipped the thick liquid into his cupped hand, recapped the bottle and then his hands went to his hair. Fingers tugging through the tangles and knots as the sweet, fruity tang of the shampoo permeating the stream. Then he turned his attention to the soap, lathering up his body and scrubbing his skin red raw before allowing the water to rinse the suds away.

Just as the water turned to chill pellets, Bakura shut the shower off and squeezed the excess water from his hair, he snatched a folded towel from the towel ring and stepped from the tub, dripping water all over the floor. Scrubbing the bunched up towel over his hair Bakura strode through the flat stark naked.

He didn't understand modern day boundaries when it came to sex and nudity. He had nothing to be ashamed of, he thought himself a rather fine male specimen actually. Lean and hard. Lithe, without any excess fat. And yet, he was forced to cover up as though he were ashamed. He tugged open a drawer and pulled out a pair of boxers and jeans, tossing them over his shoulder and onto the bed. Well, if modern day mortals insisted he cover up in public, then he would enjoy being naked inside the privacy of his own home.

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Bakura leaned forward from the line, trying to see what the hold up was. He was not one to enjoy personal space invasions at the best of times and, with his adrenaline still running high from last night, close contact with strangers set his fight-or-flight instinct revving at high alert.

A young man in a business suit, probably an office junior, jostled Bakura's shoulder roughly as he pulled open the pop fridge behind and grabbed a can of soda. He received a deadly glare from Bakura and a barely concealed snarl before he mumbled a vague apology and scuttled to the back of the queue. The thief rolled his eyes and chuffed quietly to himself before turning to resume his investigation as to why it was taking so damned long to get out of the store.

Finally his turn arrived. The checkout girl seemed just as keen to take Bakura's money and get him out of the store almost as desperately as he himself out.

Free at last,he fairly snatched the bag from the girl, threw his money at her and bolted outside. He heaved his pent up stress out in one long breath and sagged against the store window. All that for a few measly groceries and a box of cigarettes. He shoved the carton into his leather coat's pocket and stalked into the constant bustle of Domino City High Street.

"Bloody modern day mortals!" he snarled as he was bumped yet again by a pedestrian who was too busy on his cell phone to actively avoid him. Bakura turned sharply and stalked up the path leading to the block of flats where he and Ryo lived, fishing out his keys and stabbing them violently into the lock. " Bloody hate crowds!"

Stepping through the lobby door, he allowed it to swing behind him and slam shut while he climbed the stairs. "Stupid bloody people and their stupid busy lives." he ranted and tossed his keys onto the kitchen table. Opening the grocery bag, he rescued the milk and dumped it in the fridge before stuffing the rest of the groceries into a cupboard without bothering to remove them from the bag.

Job done, he stamped from the kitchen and yanked the apartment door open. Leaving it on latch and swept down the stairs again.

He stepped out onto the stoop and sat down, pulling the box from his pocket and shook a cigarette out. Holding the little white stick between his teeth he searched his pockets for either a lighter or a book of matches. Eventually his fingers wrapped around a lighter an he quickly cupped his hands around the end of the addictive little thing. The end glowed as he inhaled deeply and suppressed a contented shudder.

Ryo would scold him if he caught him, telling him that these little white sticks would kill him eventually. To that, Bakura would simply roll his eyes and snort, before replying sharply that, technically he was already dead, and that the only reason he was here was through an unexplainable fuck up of whatever Deity it was who oversaw such circumstances as this.

He flicked the half smoked cigarette to the floor and stamped it out. His mind retreated into his own dark little world of chaos as he rested his arms on his knees and slouched forward. bowing his head he stared at his pointed boots and slowly relaxed. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Are you the welcoming committee, or has Ryo finally chained you up outside where you belong?"

Resisting the urge to snarl, but just barely, Bakura lifted his head and slid his eyes to Yami's face, as if noticing him for the first time. His lip curled and opened his mouth. Whatever he planned to say it wouldn't be anything nice.

"Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"That would imply you are welcome here, Pharaoh."

Yami rolled his crimson eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "I see Ryo still hasn't quite managed to teach you manners, thief."

A sneer caught Bakura's lips. He was on familiar ground now, insulting the Pharaoh was something he could always do no matter his mood. A touch of ice crept into the taunting tone of his voice. "Forgive me Majesty. Had I known you were to grace my humble home, I would have rolled out the red carpet for you."

"Witty aren't you, for a thief."

Bakura shrugged and stifled a yawn.

"Not boring you am I?"

Bakura sighed and shoved his bangs back roughly, though they immediately fell back to where they had hung moments before. "Oh, get over yourself," he snarled. "Not everything in this world revolves around you. I'm tired..." a spiteful smile tugged at his lips. "Though I doubt that's something you are concerned about. Not getting enough sleep... with the midget away. How is single life treating you by the way?"

Yami flinched and flushed crimson. "I... Aibou and I... we never-"

As much as Bakura enjoyed screwing with Yami's head, he was exhausted. His grin swiftly dropped from his face and he growled a breath. "Look. As much fun as it is to listen to you verbally hang yourself. Was there a particular reason why you're here?"

Yami stopped spluttering and gathered as much of his shredded dignity as he could as he glared down at Bakura. "Yuugi called and asked me to make sure Ryo phoned him tonight."

"Did the midget phone the flat?"

A frown creased Yami's forehead. "I believe so. Yes."

Bakura smirked and shook his head as he rose to his feet. "Well we have a marvelous little device that, if someone calls and no one is there, it records a message." He taunted.

Yami glared. He didn't much like the tone he was being spoken to in. "I am familiar with the uses of an answering machine." He said stiffly.

"Well then _you_ should have called too." Bakura growled, heading toward the lobby door. "You were damned lucky I was outside. Had you simply turned up and I were inside, I would have simply ignored you."

"If I had phoned, you would've ignored that too."

Bakura paused, holding the door open he swung a devilish grin at the former Pharaoh. "True. But the answering machine wouldn't have." he stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him as he sarcastically finger waved at the Pharaoh. His good mood didn't last long. If he was honest, he really could've done without Yami's visit, and by the time he pushed through the flat's door, his temper had re-surfaced.

With a heavy and shaky sigh he leaned against the door, his back pressed flat to the cold wood as he attempted to rein his temper back in check. Rolling his eyes to the small table where the telephone and answering machine sat, he noticed the little red bulb winking, announcing it had a message that it was desperate to tell. Stepping toward it, he felt compelled to listen to the message and, before he realized what he'd done, he hit the play button.

"Hey Ryo. Are you there?"

Bakura inwardly groaned. Yup, that was definitely Yuugi's nauseatingly cheerful voice.

Message Yuugi giggled nervously. "Guess if you were then I wouldn't be talking to a machine. Or maybe Bakura's eaves-dropping. Anyway give a call when you get this. I really need to tal-"

"_**Message deleted. You have no new messages.**_" the nasally voice chirped from the machine.

Bakura froze. He'd hit the delete button without thinking. Collapsing onto the couch, he sighed. 'Oh well.If it was important, Yuugi would call back. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for Ryo to return home from work.

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That was a better length chapter. Okay quick apologies. I know I should have mentioned earlier and warned about language but meh, it slipped my mind and after all this is an M rated fic (no minors). Also smoking is not cool. It's a vile and disgusting habit, I should know, I'm in the process of quitting.

Anyways please r&r.

Stay smexy. xXx


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note :**

Okay, um, am kinda surprised that this fic has yet to receive any reviews. Surprised and confused. Maybe I just can't write romance like I thought I could, maybe I am just a one trick pony and Still Standing was my only half decent fic... NAH!! I like this story (maybe because _I_ have the completed drafts) and I will see it through to the end simply because I started writing it. And yes, I know I've been running kinda light on the romance, the closest sniff to it was that Bakura and Ryo were sharing the bed, but I promise this chapter is a lot more heavy on that. Anyway, any feedback is appreciated.

**Disclaimer :**

I do not own any member of Yu-Gi-Oh! cast or characters. I do, however, Bakura's left pinky (I bought it on eBay)... Huh?... Oh... Okay. Scratch that, Bakura and me have come to an understanding... I return his pinky... and I get to keep mine. The guy drives a hard bargain. So, to recap, I own nothing.

**Khamsin.**

**Chapter. 3: Hurt.**

Ryo pushed his way through the door into the lounge room of his apartment and slipped inside. He paused, it was quiet. Maybe Bakura had slipped out for some fresh air. He closed the door and instinctively headed toward the kitchen. Dropping his keys onto the table, he spotted another set. With an inward sigh, Ryo shook his head. Why did Bakura have such an adversion to his keys? Last time he'd left them behind, he'd received a visit from a terrified Mrs Mowhuza from the floor below. Apparently the stairs weren't challenging enough for the thief anymore. He had scaled the buildings side.

Ryo turned and padded back into the lounge room, and spotted Bakura. So that's why it was so quiet. Bakura had fallen asleep on the couch, his face pressed into the back cushions and his hands clutching a throw pillow so tightly that his knuckles bleached white under the strain. He mumbled soft and incoherent words in his exotic, native Egyptian tongue as his body curled.

Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, Ryo tiptoed past his sleeping thief and into the bedroom. He froze in shock at the aftermath of Bakura's frenzied search of the bed which, Bakura would point out later, was simply because his body had awoken before his brain and therefore he could not be held accountable for his actions. Ryo groaned and set about making the bed before he shed his work clothes, dropped them into the linen basket, and dressed in something more comfortable.

He padded back into the lounge room once more, and, as he passed the linen cupboard, tugged a light blanket free. He carefully covered Bakura with it, his breath catching briefly as the thief snuffled in his sleep and turned over, before settling once more, in a position that could only be described as uncomfortable. Ryo shook his head and a tiny smile touched his lips. Bakura, much like everyone else, looked so much younger and almost adorable while he slept. Not that he'd ever tell the thief that.

He turned, took a step toward the kitchen and spotted the phone. He moved around the couch and leaned down to mute it, just in case, and cast a quick once over at the answering machine. A sharp sudden pang of disappointment in his chest, No one had called while he was at work and the sudden weight of loneliness coiled in his stomach. His friends were all so far away; Anzu was studying in America, enrolled on a dance scholarship, Honda was busy training as a mechanic, and Jonouchi was with Mai, visiting Yuugi in Tokyo.

And then there was Yuugi. Yuugi was probably having the time of his life as a student of Tokyo International. The last time he'd called he had been bubbling over with excitement after finally plucking up the courage to ask the cute transfer student/his roommate out on a first date. A two hour phone call spent making plans and asking Ryo's advice then occurred and since then, nothing.

Ryo whispered a sigh. He felt abandoned, left behind and forgotten...

"Hrmble... Ryo?"

Ryo jumped and whirled around to see Bakura sitting up and pinching sleep from his bleary eyes. "Ryo?" he tried to focus, blinked hard and tried again. He quickly hid the sadness behind his tiny secret smile before the thief could focus properly, but the loneliness still lurked in his eyes, deceptively deep.

"You look exhausted. Go back to sleep."

Bakura shook his head. He had seen the sadness before it was so expertly hidden. "How was work?"

Ryo balked. Bakura never asked how work went. In fact, he actively avoided asking the question. Blinking back the surprise, Ryo shrugged. "OK, I guess. A few more yen to keep us living." He shoved Bakura's feet ff the couch and sat beside him. Leaning his body into the thief's, Ryo dropped his head into the crook of his neck. "Will you tell me what you dreamed last night? You had me really worried."

Bakura tilted his head to rest against Ryo's temple in a rare display of affection. "It wasn't a dream. I just..." he rumbled a purring growl, "I just want to forget, for now."

The lighter hmmed his understanding. Just content to be sitting there, temple to temple with Bakura. Happy in the knowledge that Bakura would always be there, waiting for him. Happy knowing, that even though his friends had scattered end that Bakura still had his secrets and still held himself at a distance, he was never completely alone.

Reluctantly, Ryo pulled away and rose to his feet. "Well I guess I'd better start dinner." He managed one step before Bakura's hand shot out, grasping his wrist in a firm and insistent grip.

"Ryo, wait." He tugged him back, pulling him down onto his lap.

Ryo cocked a brow. "What on earth has gotten into you tonight?"

Bakura's eyes shuttered and his lips twitched. "I just thought..." he felt his temper bubble and fought desperately to rein it back in, but the damage had been done. Shoving himself to his feet and sending Ryo tumbling to the floor with a bump, he stepped over the crumpled boy without even so much as a glance to make sure he wasn't hurt. "Forget it!" he snarled.

He stalked to the kitchen, Ryo followed and hovered in the doorway, watching with wide eyes as Bakura snatched his keys from the table. In two large strides he stood, nose to nose with the smaller boy. "Move!" Trembling, Ryo shook his head wordlessly. The thief snorted at the tiny display of defiance and bore down on the boy. "Move. Now. Before I remove you!"

Ryo back-peddled, recoiling from the tone that he had never heard before and from the face that he had seen before, but never directed at him. He swallowed hard as Bakura slammed through the lounge and wrenched open the front door, and Ryo followed at his heels.

"Bakura." he called desperately, clutching the star rail and leaned. "Bakura, wait. Please. I-I didn't-"

Bakura paused half way down the stairs.

"Where will you go?"

He shrugged dismissively.

Ryo stood frozen and clinging to the rail as though it were the only thing holding him upright, stinging tears welled in his eyes. "Please, Bakura. Come back up and we'll talk."

"I need to be on my own for a while." The voice was cold. Flat...

... And Ryo's world came crashing down around his ears. He just stood there as the lobby door slammed. Prising his hands from the rail, he shuffled miserably back into his apartment, closing the door softly behind him. He crawled onto the couch and buried himself in its sanctuary, the cushions still warm from Bakura's body heat. He glanced up at the phone, still muted on the table beside him. He reached up and flicked the ringer back on.

He didn't know how long had passed. Maybe hours. Probably minutes. Just long enough for him to sink back into his state of self pity. Then he jumped, the phone's ringing snapped him back to reality. Scrambling up, he snatched up the phone. "Bakura!?"

Silence buzzed down the line, then a quiet "Ryo?"

A familiar voice, but not the one he was hoping for. "Yuugi."

The ache of loneliness returned, his breathing caught as some rational part of Ryo's brain kicked in and he swallowed, pushing the disappointment out of his voice. "How was your date?"

"Great. All thanks to you."

Ryo closed his eyes and pretended Yuugi was sitting on the couch across from him and not just the artificial sounding voice at the end of a poor phone line.

"Are you going to tell me what's happened? Or do I have to gross you out with details of the date you helped me pull off?"

Ryo couldn't help but chuckle weakly despite himself. "Ahh, it went very well then?"

Yuugi's laugh buzzed through. "Uh-uh, no side-tracking. I can warp yo with that later." his voice became concerned once more. "Now tell me, what happened with Bakura?"

Ryo sighed. "Just a stupid fight. He stormed out and..." he'd tried to sound off-hand and flippant about it but his voice cracked. "And I don't know where he is or what kind of trouble he's getting himself into." his throat clogged with grief. "He's been acting so strange since last night, like he's frightened of being close. And I don't know what to do to fix it."

Static crackled for a few moments and Ryo's heart sank. Had Yuugi's connection gone dead? Did he just tell static what was wrong? He clutched the phone desperately and almost shouted down the line. "Yuugi? Hello. Yuugi?"

"Whoa, whoa. I'm here Ryo. I was just thinking." A pause. "I really don't know what to suggest, except give him a little space to figure out what he needs to figure out but let him know you'll be there when he's ready to talk." Another pause. "Urgh! Did that sound as cliched and corny to you as it did to me?"

Ryo chuckled. "Teanya must be rubbing off on you."

A snort of barely controlled laughter. "I guess that's one way of putting it."

Ryo rolled his eyes and groaned. "That was bad, Yuugi-kun. I don't think I need the details of your date. I think I can pretty much fill in the blanks for myself."

Yuugi's chuckle sizzled along the line. "Okay. I gotta run, Ryo. I'm meant to be sorting dinner tonight and I can't find the pizza take out menu. Remember, if you need me just call."

Murmuring his thanks and assuring Yuugi he would let him know when everything was back to normal, Ryo signed off.

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Bakura didn't come home for dinner. And Ryo slipped back into his depression, spending the next few hours curled atop the bed covers. Not moving even when his leg muscles seized up and begged him to shift position. He stared at the curtains shrouding the window, his mind as blank as he could make it. Afraid to think anything or feel anything.

Hours later he was still laying like that when he felt the mattress dip behind him. A hand went to his shoulder, resting there. Ryo closed his eyes as the warmth of Bakura's fingers seeped through his chilled skin. For several minutes, Bakura just sat there, not moving. Then he reached over, pulled a stand of hair from Ryo's face and tucked it behind his ear. Ryo turned his face and Bakura's lips touched his lightly. Tentatively. Waiting to be shoved away.

Ryo could taste the panic, his fight to control the dueling instincts that raged inside him. He put his arms around him, hands going up in Bakura's hair, pulling him closer. A moan of relief shuddered through the thief and his lips came back to Ryo's, bruisingly rough as he lay down beside him. His hands grabbing and kneading his hips, pulling Ryo flat against him. Ryo felt a whimper bubbling up his throat and burrowed his face into Bakura's collar.

"Ryo. I..."

Not lifting his face from his collar, Ryo shook his head. "Don't." he murmured, cutting off Bakura's strangulated apology. "You're home. You're safe. That's all that matters."

Bakura grunted softly. "You are too forgiving, Rabbit." he cupped Ryo's chin and tilted his face, skewering the others gaze, then a slow and lazy grin quirked his lips before he leaned down and nuzzled Ryo's cheek. "But I'm glad you are."

Afterward, Ryo lay curled to Bakura's chest, exhausted, the steady beating of his heart lulled him to sleep. Bakura's bare legs hooked over Ryo's in a tangled mess. He carefully ran his fingers over the dented scar in Ryo's bicep and his chest tightened with guilt. He had been the one to inflict the injury upon him. Assuming control over Ryo's body after sensing a Millennium Item nearby and, to prove his 'loyalty' to Marik, he had sliced into the arm.

He shuddered as he remembered the desperate pleading, the absolute agony in Ryo's voice after Bakura had backed Yami into a corner during Battle City. Giving him the option; forfeit the duel or risk killing Ryo in his weakened state. "_P-please, help me. Yuugi? M-my arm, it hurts._"

Bakura shuddered again. He had hurt Ryo, and endangered his life... and for what? A cowardly win? He had managed to fool himself into believing he had switched with Ryo again because of his pride, but he knew it was guilt.

He was pulled from his dwelling by the gentle snuffling from the boy sleeping in his arms. After checking the boy was still sleeping peacefully, Bakura yawned. Concentrating on clearing his mind and joining Ryo in unconscious bliss.

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Everybody say awwwwww.

It isn't over yet. There is one final chapter to come. And as for the no reviews for this fic... I got one yay so super special awesome hugs to SilenceNights. You know the drill R&R please guys... comments are appreciated.

Stay Smexy. xXx


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note:**

Okay. Final chapter. Yes I know it's short, but considering it was supposed to be a one shot back in drafting I think it's had a good run. And besides, I'm a short story author, not a novelist, if I drag it out too long I get bored of it. lol.

I have been asked a very good question by sglily. (Yeah. Yeah smarty-pants.) But first a comment about my portrayal of Bakura. I see him as a very deep and emotionally charged character, not some sex-crazed, knife/lighter wielding psychopath. He is cunning and calculated, as you'll see in Of Kings And Thieves.

He is fragile in his strength and strong in his dependence... damnit I'm ranting again. Btw I'm not criticizing anyone who writes Bakura as a sex-crazed, knife/lighter wielding psychopath at all. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and just because I don't write him like that doesn't mean I don't enjoy reading those sorts of fics.

Anyway back to questions. What triggered the nightmares? Well for a start it is actually a memory he thought he had bottled away. But as I know from personal experiences, no matter how deep you bury something, it has a nasty habit of clawing its way back to the surface. It doesn't necessarily need a trigger.

Anyhoo. Here's the final chapter. Hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:**

I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Never have and never will, but you know what...? Neither do You!! Bwah ha ha ha ha ha ha!

**Khamsin.**

**Chapter. 4: Closure.**

Bakura struggled to throw off the blanket of sleep. Every time he clawed to the surface he felt himself being dragged back down into the murky depths of exhaustion. He managed to rouse himself enough to reach over to Ryo's side of the mattress and groped. He wasn't there. Scrabbling desperately at the bed linen, he bolted upright, his hands running over the ground sheet. Still warm, but barely. Opening his mouth to call out, Bakura's other senses finally decided to kick in.

Bakura inhaled deeply and the welcome scent of pancakes flooded his mind. His stomach flipped and gurgled. He hadn't eaten last night and his body punished him for it now.

Just as he was willing himself to move, the door swung open and Ryo backed into the room, carrying an overloaded tray of pancakes, fresh fruit and juice. As the boy turned toward him Bakura felt his chest tighten briefly.

Ryo was smiling.

Smiling a genuinely happy smile. No sadness. No secrets lurking just below the surface. Just a smile.

"Look who smelled breakfast." Ryo chirruped.

He half expected a gushy Disney song to begin playing in the background. Shaking his head, Bakura finally closed his mouth and watched Ryo unload the juice and fruit onto the bedside table before thrusting two plates, piled high with hot pancakes, into his hands so he could slide back under the sheets beside him.

"Ryo?" Bakura murmured quietly as he stared at the plates in his hands, then to the alarm clock and finally back to Ryo who traded him a plate for a fork. "Not that I'm not appreciative. But. What about work?"

Ryo shrugged and cut a pancake in half with side of his fork. "I have plenty of sick days that I'll never use, so I thought I'd take a few days off. We haven't had a duvet day since you caught that cold... which you then passed to me by the way Mr I never get sick." he popped the food into his mouth neatly and chewed.

Slowly turning his head to the warm plate of food in his hand, Bakura turned the fork wordlessly between his fingers, then groaned. Setting the plate on the table on his side of the bed, he twisted to face Ryo fully. "We can't do this Ryo. As much as you want it to, pretending yesterday never happened won't make it so."

Ryo said nothing but his chewing slowed.

"We need to talk."

Ryo's eyes slid shut and ignored the words, still chewing the same mouthful.

"If you won't talk about it then I will-"

Bakura jumped as Ryo slammed down his fork and shoved the plate beside the juice and fruit before he finally swallowed. Then his eyes hardened as the boy swallowed. "Fine. You want to talk? Then talk."

The thief sneered then turned his nose up. "Not if that's how you're going to act. You're acting like a child."

Ryo gaped. "_I'm_ a child?" he spluttered. "Excuse me, but you're the childish one. Storming off in a strop like some pre-menstrual girl." The glare he received for that remark was positively frigid.

"At least I don't look like one."

"Thank you for proving my point." Ryo snapped and attempted to match the glare with one of his own. "This is why I don't try to understand you when you're in one of your moods. You close me off and then hurl insults, so why waste my breath?"

Bakura opened his mouth, but no words came. He settled for turning his head and staring moodily at the curtains.

Ryo sighed heavily. "Sometimes, I don't know what to do with you. Sometimes I feel like a mother to a tear away teen." He turned his head and stared at the carpet. And that's how they sat for a few moments, neither looking at the other and both sulking in silence.

"You remind me of her sometimes..."

Ryo snapped his head around so sharply that his neck popped loudly in protest. "Who?"

Bakura's shoulders sagged and he still refused to look at Ryo. "Mother." he whispered. "She always had time for me. Always made time for me. Knew how to put me in my place." he chuckled once and half turned. His barely visible eye staring at Ryo. "You're a lot like her."

"I don't know how to put you in your place." Ryo said softly.

"Yes, you do. You managed it a few moments ago."

"Is that what's been bothering you? You miss your mother?"

Bakura's eye hardened again. "No. That's not what's been bothering me."

Frustration seeped into Ryo's eyes again, and he growled. "So tell me what is then. Did I screw up again? I need to know-"

"What you 'need to know'," Bakura snarled as he swung around to face Ryo once more. "Is that it's _my_ fault. I screwed up, not you. Why? Because I was scared! Because I can't..."

When Ryo stared at Bakura, he could see his emotions mirrored in his face. The anger. The outrage. And something so rare, Ryo barely recognized it. A haunted look, half hidden behind his eyes. Fear.

Seeing his dark in such turmoil was too much for him to bear. His frustration finally dissolved into tears and Ryo flung himself into Bakura's arms and pressed his face into his throat, sobbing as he clung to him. Bakura instinctively tightened his arms around the boy and buried his face into the mass of creamy white hair, inhaling Ryo's scent greedily.

"Because if I..." he lifted his face from Ryo's hair, his eyes slitting and the tip of his tongue showing between his teeth as he fought to keep his voice steady. "If I lost you... I can't lose you. I won't!"

Ryo sniffled and nodded against Bakura's throat. Still he clung to the thief, refusing to let go even for an instant, frightened that if he did, Bakura would fade into nothingness. Carefully he moved one hand to the thief's chest and held it there. Feeling the life inside. The tripping of the pulse that his eye was crushed against, and the steady and strong beats of the heart beneath his fingers.

Bakura murmured against the top of his head and closed his eyes, trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory. He was alive and he mattered to someone. "I'm no good at these sorts of things. Being thoughtful... Caring. I can't feel the things you want me to feel. I know it's not what you want to hear,"

Bakura's breath ruffled the hair as he spoke and he stroked his thumb along Ryo's jaw. "And I know I'm a pain in the ass, but I am trying, Rabbit. I know it probably doesn't seem to make much difference. But I am. And I'll keep trying. No more tricks. No more tantrums or sulkiness. I'll-" He screwed up his face in distaste. "I'll even be nicer to the Pharaoh, if that would keep you here."

Ryo nuzzled his face deeper against his throat. Bakura frowned as he felt tiny tremors shudder through the others shoulders. "R-Ryo?"

Finally Ryo lifted his face and met his worried eyes. His soft dark pools gleamed and his lips twisted with pent up laughter. "I'm sorry. But I just couldn't just pass up an opportunity to milk an apology from you for all it's worth. Something tells me they won't be happening often." He grinned gently.

Bakura glared, his mouth set in a tight thin line. "You-" He stopped, lowered his head to Ryos temple and chuckled. "I guess I deserve that."

"That and more."

The thief gave a mock growl and nipped at Ryo's lips, shifting his body from beneath him so he slid from his lap with a yelp of surprise. Pinning Ryo half on his stomach with his weight, Bakura reached and gently lifted the thick hair away from the back of the boys neck and nuzzled him there, grazing his teeth along the sensitive nape.

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The pancakes were cold by the time they finally got round to eating them, but they didn't care. Their stomachs chortled and gurgled, demanding to be filled. Bakura cast a sideways look at Ryo. He looked so young. His cheeks flushed with the afterglow, eyes glimmering with mischief and his lips settled in a lingering grin. Gulping down the last of the juice, Ryo gathered the plates and forks and slid from beneath the covers, padding across the carpet and toward the kitchen.

Bakura lay back against the pillows and stretched the full length of his body, enjoying every pop and crack his body gave as it mingled with his own afterglow. Easing from under the warm sheets, he strode to the balcony window. He flung open the doors and stepped, still naked, onto the cold balcony and tilted his head to the sky. The mid-morning breeze caressed its cool path around his tanned flesh. He closed his eyes. His mind drifting back to the night his mother was taken from him.

The night he'd lost everything...

His lips curved into a slight smile as he felt Ryo slide into the contours of his back, his bare pale skin, cool against his own. The boys arms wrapping around him and his face pressed into his shoulder. Bakura turned his head slightly and gazed at the top of Ryo's head. He slid his hands to cover the ones on his stomach.

... Well, almost everything.

"Ryo?"

"Hmmm?"

"You know I was kidding, right? About what I said about being nicer to the Pharaoh."

A chuckle. "Yes Bakura. I know."

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Whoot! Finished. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Wasn't it just full of fluffy goodness. I'm really rather proud, not only was it my first romantic fic but it was also my first guy/guy fic and I think Ryo and Bakura are the best couple for that.

Read and Review guys...

I now need to work on Of Kings And Thieves.

Stay Smexy. xXx


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